Book Reviews

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Anthology #8

Over My Dead Body, by Jeffrey Archer

This is a workmanlike product from this well-known & prolific author, who has been a controversial figure in his time in the British political sphere; he has also published, very probably without a trace of shame or irony, three volumes of Prison Diaries, from his time languishing at his, no doubt, revered monarch’s ‘pleasure’. This is an undemanding read, but no less enjoyable for that; it is the fourth entry in the William Warwick series: another one, Next in Line, previewed here, should have been published last autumn [2022]. The story begins with an episode including a questionable death, which serves to introduce the plot, where Detective Chief Inspector William Warwick of the Metropolitan Police is sailing to New York for a week’s holiday with his wife, Beth, keeper of pictures at the Fitzmolean Museum. When he returns, he is put in charge of a cold-case squad: somewhat uninspiring perhaps, but he also has a mission: to prove that a devious art-loving criminal, Miles Faulkner, did not die in Switzerland, but is still alive. He is, indeed, still alive, and with a new identity, after plastic surgery, but he proves too clever for easy apprehension; he also has a very devious barrister supporting him. Warwick has a very clever ally though: Inspector Ross Hogan, ex-SAS and former undercover officer. The story is set in 1988, but we don’t ascertain that until well into the narrative. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd., London, ISBN 978-0-0084-7431-7.

On the Bright Side, by Hendrik Groen

The subtitle of this lovely, poignant book is The New Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, and as the discerning reader might surmise, he is a Dutch gentleman, and a resident of a care home in north Amsterdam. At the time of writing, he was eighty-five years old and, in fact, this book is a sequel to his previous book of an identical nature: The Secret Diary of Hendrik Groen, 83¼ Years Old. Of course, here we are dependent upon the accuracy of the translation, by Hester Velmans, and her English is a mixture of mostly British spelling [excluding realize] with some American terms: chomp, stomp, airplane, and sputter. That notwithstanding, the diary entries, which include most, but not quite all days in 2015, cover a range of experiences & emotions, the latter of which most people who are advanced in years [albeit perhaps not quite as advanced as the author] will readily identify with; the most difficult being, in addition to the variety of degrees of acceptance of the inevitable by his friends & fellow care home inhabitants, coming to terms with the loss of a close friend. There is plenty of humour here; it isn’t just a repetitive list of days of tedium; a core of the still most mentally, if not realistically physically active occupants of the home form the Old-But-Not-Dead-Yet Club, to give their remaining days, if they can’t hope for years, some spice [I think the book’s rear cover slips into hyperbole, describing this as “octogenarian anarchy”], so they organise regular outings, including meals out at a variety of international cuisine restaurants. If this helps younger people understand the reality of life in old age, it is highly recommended. The paperback I read was published in 2018 by Penguin Books [2017, Meulenhoff, Netherlands],  ISBN 978-1-4059-3030-7.

A Funny Life, by Michael McIntyre

This book is the second volume of autobiography by a comedian most British people [he is hardly known in the USA] regard as ‘Marmite’ [ditto this concept in the USA]: they either love him or have no time for him. Not being most British people, I don’t conform to either assessment. His early life must have been covered in the earlier volume, entitled Life & Laughing, so here, after a rambling prologue, in which he describes the rationale behind the first volume, he begins with the birth of his first son, Lucas, and how, endearingly, he is devoted to his wife, Kitty. After that, he progresses pretty much chronologically through his career to [almost] date, and the embarrassing self-inflicted setbacks he has survived, as well as the successes which have made him a rich man. This career is largely the result of the endlessly enthusiastic support & promotion he received from his force-of-nature agent, Addison Cresswell, who died suddenly from a heart attack in 2013, tragically at Christmas. Since then, he has built on that support and helped to create some very successful TV programmes, as well as breaking records for live performances. My impression is that he is a genuinely funny man, but [self-confessed] very vulnerable & needy at times, as well as suffering from self-doubt; but many actors & performers share these attributes, of course. This is easy reading, and I wish him well. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021], by Pan Books [Macmillan], London, ISBN 978-1-5290-6369-1.

Betrayal in The Cotswolds, by Rebecca Tope

I have read possibly a couple of earlier instalments in this Cotswold Mysteries series [there are plenty of them!], but I can only assume that I haven’t reviewed them because my overall impression was the same as it is after reading this one: the pace is slow, the jeopardy almost non-existent; so, engendering the same sort of feeling one might get, not having any particular aspiration to live there, from reading the many glossy magazine features about this somewhat ‘olde-world’ film-set region of the country—fine if one is rich, but rather vacuous at the same time. Thea Slocombe is a house-sitter, when she isn’t helping her second husband, Drew [she is also his second wife] with their ecologically friendly undertaking business. She is also an amateur sleuth, whom the local police seem happy to accommodate—even to encourage. When she witnesses a fatal hit-and-run incident right outside the house in which she has that day taken up residence, it launches her on another investigation. The house’s current occupant is away on business in Germany, but he is part of a large family, and his ownership of the house is disputed. The perpetrator is eventually unmasked, but the five days over which the action takes place seem like much longer. This is easy reading, so not unenjoyable, but her relationship with the police does seem somewhat implausible. The paperback I read was published in 2023 [2022] by Allison & Busby, London, ISBN 978-0-7490-2869-5.

Book Reviews

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Anthology #7

Three Debts Paid, by Anne Perry

This is a decent enough story, but in my humble opinion, the author takes an excruciatingly long time to reach the dénouement, sending two of the main characters round in unnecessary circles, and asking the same questions more than once, both of themselves, and others whom they need to or want to question. There are two main threads happening: the first, a series of brutal & violent murders, in which the victims are stabbed & slashed, then an index finger segment removed post mortem; apart from the latter detail, the only other common aspect is that they all occur in pouring rain on the streets of London in the February of 1912. The second is a legal case of plagiarism, which is complicated by a charge of assault against the defendant. The main characters all know each other: Inspector Ian Frobisher is investigating the murders, and he was at Cambridge with Daniel Pitt, the barrister who is recommended by Frobisher to the defendant, Professor Nicholas Wolford, who taught Pitt, whose father just happens to be head of Special Branch. There is also a potential love interest, between Daniel and Miriam fford Croft, who has recently qualified as a pathologist, but she had to do this in Amsterdam, as the facility was not available in Britain; she also happens to be somewhat older than Daniel. The murderer is not too difficult to identify, but this takes around 300 pages! The court case near the end is rather messily terminated, and I didn’t think clients were able to instruct barristers directly, as is the case here. The paperback I read was published in 2022 [2021] by HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP, London, ISBN 978-1-4722-7527-1.

This is the Night They Come for You, by Robert Goddard

At first, I wasn’t sure if I was going to enjoy this story, but it didn’t take me long to decide that I definitely would! Also, the author’s name seems familiar, but if I have read another of his books, I can’t find a review for it; he has written twenty-nine other books, according to the flyleaf of this one. The story revolves around the politics of Algeria, a country about which I know very little; there are also associated threads in England & France. It is set in the present day, and Covid has left its mark on Algiers, but lurking in the background, there is the spectre of the revolutions and tragic bloodshed which have riven the country since the War of Independence, whose true horror was exemplified in the massacre of Algerian protestors by the Paris police on the night of 17 October 1961. An Algiers police superintendent is charged with bringing a high-level embezzler to justice, and he is obliged to work with a rare female security service operative. A French woman has been offered a written confession made by her English father, who ran a bookshop in Algiers, before he was murdered, apparently by moslem extremists. An English man is also interested in the Algerian embezzler, because he is convinced that the latter murdered his sister, who was the bookshop owner’s girlfriend in Paris. The threads are very cleverly woven together, and they build to a dramatic climax, so I can recommend this book. The paperback I read was published in 2022 by Penguin [Bantam Press], London, ISBN 978-0-5521-7847-1.

Until the Last of Me, by Sylvain Neuvel

This author, as his name suggests, has French ancestry, but is a native of Québec. The book being reviewed is [again!] the second of a prospective trilogy, classified under the title of Take them to the Stars, and it is a type of alternative history science fiction; it is also, for me anyway, an allegory of the seemingly eternal, sadly, struggle of the female gender to overcome the at best dismissal, and at worst outright violence of the patriarchy. This should not spoil the plot, but the theme is only barely disguised. The plot is that a race of humanoid extraterrestrials, known as Kibsu, have lived among us for 3000 years, and for only vaguely explained reasons have “shaped Earth’s history to push humanity to the stars”, by using their skill with mathematics & astronomy to assist our technological development. Somewhat implausibly, they are all female, only using indigenous males for procreation; to complicate matters, however, the women are hunted, and regularly eliminated [but not enough for the race to die out completely] by the Tracker, a lineage of males, whose purpose seems to be simply to prevent the Kibsu from achieving their goal. The dénouement of this story is climactic, but not sufficiently to prevent the plausibility of a conclusionary sequel; I did enjoy it in the end, but it took a while before I was sure. The hardback I read was published in 2022, by Michael Joseph [Tom Doherty Associates], ISBN 978-0-2414-4514-3.

The Locked Room, by Elly Griffiths

It is now February 2020, and Covid is starting to bite; although, not as hard as it would, as we now know with hindsight. Dr. Ruth Galloway, the head of the Archaeology Department at the University of North Norfolk, is enjoying some quality time with her illicit, and only barely concealed lover, Detective Chief Inspector Harry Nelson, because his wife, Michelle, is isolating in Blackpool with their son and Harry’s mother. Harry and his team are investigating a series of apparent suicides of elderly people, but they are having to operate a skeleton staff in the office because of safety requirements. Ruth has just cleared her recently deceased mother’s house in London, and discovered a photograph which shows her cottage taken before she moved in, with the caption “Dawn, 1963” on the back; meanwhile, she has a new neighbour, a nurse by the name of Zoe, but she seems strangely familiar… Two students at the university go missing, then Ruth’s neighbour also does. There is also a significant scare [including for regular readers of this series] when one of the least likely main characters is struck down by Covid. At the end of the book [but not the end of the series: the next instalment is previewed here] Ruth has two very significant decisions to make: both of which have been forced upon her, and neither of which she is enthusiastic about having to make. Another very enjoyable instalment! The paperback I read was published in 2022 by Quercus Editions Ltd., London, ISBN 978-1-5294-0967-3.